


kiss me on the mouth (set me free)

by pocketlouis



Series: Lavender [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Denial of Feelings, Drunkenness, Feelings, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry-centric, Innocent Harry, Lonely Louis, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, Louis-centric, M/M, Nervous Harry, Photographer Harry, Photography, Sad Louis, Shyness, Whole Foods, asshole zayn, but like eventually he will cheer up i promise!!!, but not for long!!!, he's the best friend, hmmm, idk what else to tag, ill probably add more tags later, lavender fic, lots of details about the moon and photography and other things, niall is here too, there's no smut in this one but in the next one there will be!!!, this story was previously called the "lavender fic" just in case u wanted to know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 09:39:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6605854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketlouis/pseuds/pocketlouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is still trying to get over having his heart broken, and along the way he meets a boy who works in the bakery and is just about everything he's ever needed. </p><p>Or</p><p>A fic about the moon, dainty cookies, late nights, rainy skies, awkward kisses, photography, and newfound love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	kiss me on the mouth (set me free)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! It's been a while since I have put something on here for you all to read. Anyway, just want to say a few things. Many thanks to my gf Des, who's constantly encouraging me to finish and listening to my rants about writing. She also was super pumped about this fic the whole time, even while it was in the works as "the lavender fic." Des, I love you and thank you. 
> 
> Also, thank you to Nancy for also being excited about this fic. I put her in the story as the bakery girl, so thanks for also letting me put you in here! 
> 
> And to you, the reader, thanks for stopping by to read this if you choose to! If I get a good amount of feedback/kudos on this, I might write the second part to this set in the summer time. Or I might just do it regardless, but if you like the story feel free to let me know! 
> 
> You can come talk to me on my tumblr(harrymoon), twitter(pocketlouist), or even come follow me on instagram(effieabigail) for my personal posts and such.
> 
> Anyway, enough of my rambling! Onto the story! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

The words rushed through his mind thousands of times. _I won’t be with you, can’t be with you_. With each rain drop that hits the window pane, each syllable of those words echo in his head. It was like, he knew it wasn’t going to last. But, he just held onto the hope that it would. 

All along he was ready for the fall, but he didn’t anticipate how hard it would be without anyone there to catch him. His friends were all “supportive” after it happened, most of them sending him texts saying how sorry they were about the situation. He knew that they didn’t really mean it. His friends were the type of people that were there for a day, just to hear the details of Louis’ misery.

So now he’s just sitting in his car with the rain pouring down harshly. He’s parked in front of the local Whole Foods, debating on whether or not he should go in and get groceries for the week. He also debates on just eating instant noodles again. Either option works.  

Somehow, he decides to pull his hood over his head and step out in the rain and to the front of the store. He stares inside at the people shopping with their families, and he sinks. _God, he’s so lonely._

It’s as he’s walking with a shopping cart full of nothing five minutes later that the memories start flooding back. He thinks of hands on his waist, a furry face nuzzled into his shoulder. His heart wrenches, to say the absolute least. He strolls past the organic juice section and he debates for a moment between watermelon and fresh pomegranate. _He_ used to like pomegranate, so Louis decides on watermelon. He places a bottle of the juice into his cart and moves on. 

Ben Howard’s “ _Promise_ ” is playing through the loud speaker, and Louis kind of feels like he is in a sad music video. He thinks about how it used to be. The three whole years they spent together felt like the longest of his life, but at the same time they all seemed to go by so quickly. Maybe time slows when you’re sad and speeds up when you’re happy, or something like that. 

Louis sighs heavily, turning the corner to where the toothpaste is kept. There is no one else in the aisle for once and he finds peace in the solitude of the moment. He scans the countless rows of dental hygiene products. He normally settles for the cheapest option. He reaches to grab a box, scanning it briefly before tossing it into his cart. Juice and toothpaste. _Amazing_. 

He pushes the cart forward and stares down at the spaces between his fingers. He thinks about how they used to be full of someone else’s. He also wonders how it is that he is still so miserable about it. The thing is, it’s been almost a full year since the break and it still feels like yesterday. He’s twenty-three now, and Zayn ended it with him when he was twenty-two. He and…Zayn( _god, how it hurts to even think his name_ ) met during their second year of uni. Louis smoked weed everyday and talked to no one, and Zayn kind of liked that. Zayn was a nobody too, and Louis thinks that’s why they clicked so well. 

Despite the fact that Zayn dropped out of uni, they still were close. Many times Louis thought it was just because Zayn wanted weed and sex…but in those rare, special moments where Zayn shed the light of his soul for Louis to see…he could think the most loveliest thoughts of their relationship. They started out hot like a newly lit joint and they burnt out cold and dark at its end. 

Louis was always too attached. That was the problem. Zayn never wanted to settle, and Louis just wanted a home. Zayn just wanted Louis’ body, and Louis just wanted Zayn’s mind and heart and soul. 

The other boy would spend countless hours behind a black sketch book with a ball point pen scribbling on the paper drawing Louis’ many different facial expressions. He would call Louis beautiful, call Louis his muse. For the longest time, Louis thought that just maybe there was nothing wrong with him. He thought that maybe it was the artist who caused the problems. But in the time span of being alone, his demons caught up to him and he saw how weak he really was. The muse _never_ wins.

He couldn’t be on his own, he attached to people like a leech. He was the problem. Zayn wanted freedom and a life of his own. Meanwhile, Louis couldn’t stomach the idea of ever being apart. So in turn, Zayn left because of it. 

Louis’ thinking is stopped with a painful thud. He shakes his head a bit and finds that he’s on the ground in front of a large pair of feet. It’s a brief moment where he is full of utter confusion and shock. The pain in his bum doesn’t even register until he’s greeted with a pair of shaking hands. 

“Oh, wow. I- I’m _so_ sorry!” 

Louis looks at the pale hands, noting a small cross tattoo and many silver rings on various fingers. Each pointer finger nail is coated with a deep crimson nail polish, and Louis has to do a double take. He glances up further to see a boy with pale skin, intense eyebrows, lips the color of love, and the greenest eyes he has ever seen. 

“Are you okay?” the boy asks again. 

Louis shakes himself out of his daze. He tries to gather himself, using the shopping cart handle to pull himself up. “I’m okay. Boot got stuck. S’no big deal.” 

The boy looks concerned. His large, green eyes pop even more when Louis gets a view of his black Whole Foods work apron. He works here.

“You work here.” Louis thinks aloud. 

“Um,” the boy, with the name tag that says _Harry :)_ , starts to say. “I do work here. Can I help you find something? Anything I can do to make your shopping experience better?” 

Louis shakes his head. “Not that I can think of.” 

Harry bends over to pick something up from the ground, clearly not noticing when Louis stares at his bum. 

Louis’ leather card holder is there flat on the floor, open for the world to see until Harry picks it up. Harry’s long fingers hold the card holder for a moment, so his eyes can scan the clear wallet windows. He sees an ID card and a photo of a boy with olive skin and chocolate brown eyes.  

Louis instantly snatches the wallet. “Did your mother not teach you privacy?” 

Harry looks hurt, like he’s being accused of something he didn’t mean to do. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. It was just open…” he says, full of remorse. 

Louis stares directly into Harry’s eyes for the first time. In the next five seconds he sees a warmth that he’s probably never seen in the eyes of another person who has looked at him. For some reason he can’t stand it, can’t bear the feeling. So he gathers himself and walks away, leaving his cart behind. He thinks that he hears the boy call for him, or something. But he doesn’t turn around. The embarrassment is hot on his cheeks, and he’s already ruined the situation enough. This is probably why he doesn't have friends.

 

* * *

 

The next morning comes and Louis finds himself waking slowly. The rain is patting lightly on the roof of the two-story townhouse he lives in. His neighbors who live on the first floor are already up causing a ruckus. They’re a couple of undergrad college students, so Louis doesn’t blame them for their stupidity. Though he doesn’t know them, he does pick up on a few things from listening to the conversations that they have. Sometimes though, he does wish that he chose a place that wasn’t so close to the city. 

The cars are moving outside of his window, horns honking and tires screeching to stop. It’s because of these things that he knows it’s time to get up. The roads get busy at around eight in the morning. He can’t possibly bear the sounds for any longer accompanied by the thoughts that plague his mind, so he finds himself drawing his body up from the mattress. His bones creak and pop, limbs stretching. He inhales sharply, yawning just after. 

A text chimes on his phone that is sitting on his dresser, so he walks over to retrieve it. He taps it open, reading the words: _can i come over? -niall_

Louis doesn’t hesitate in his reply. He types out a quick “ _yea_ ” before locking his iPhone. He walks over to the kitchen so he can get the kettle started. He thinks for a bit while the stove is heating. Niall is probably the only friend he has that actually cares about him. 

Yesterday he thought of people who were just nosy when it came to his life, and Niall was most certainly not on that list. He met Niall during freshman year of uni, and after a night of one too many tequila shots and heartfelt discussions about their lives, they became the best of friends. They started uni in the same place, knowing no one and scared as hell. But they also ended uni the same, walking across the graduation stage pumping their fists in the air. 

The kettle screeches loudly and Louis moves it so he can pour hot tea into two mugs he placed aside. The steam from the kettle dances in the crisp morning air flowing in from the window that Louis forgot to shut last night. 

He stares out the window for a moment, taking in the sight of people walking and talking. He sees Niall riding up on his bike, slowing when he hits the sidewalk. Louis sets the kettle down and races to the front door of his flat. He unlocks it quickly before heading back to the kitchen to get lumps of sugar. He can hear Niall’s heavy steps bounding up the stair case that leads to his front door. 

“Come in! Door’s unlocked!” he calls over when he hears Niall knock. 

“Don’t you realize that it’s not safe to leave your locks undone?” Niall says with a laugh, his smiling face just entering the dining area in Louis’ place. “Strangers could come in. Or murderers!” 

Louis rolls his eyes as he takes a seat at the table. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to me. Come get your tea.” 

Niall kicks his shoes off. He walks over and takes his usual seat across from Louis at the table. His gloved hands grab the mug and he brings it to his lips for a slow swig. “Ah…” he exhales. “Always so negative, you are.”

Louis bats his eyelashes dramatically. “I’m your personal sunshine.” 

Niall shakes his head. “You’re _something_ , that’s for sure.” 

They both sip their tea in silence, listening to the rain pouring down and the sound of the tv going in the background. Louis sits up from his seat. “I need to take the trash out.” 

Niall gets up halfway, trying to stop him. “Lou, don’t you want to talk about it?” 

Louis looks at him. “Talk about what?” 

Niall gives him an all too knowing look. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Louis sighs. “I have to take out the trash. I’ll be right back.” he says, grabbing the half full trash bag before leaving abruptly. He’s standing out in front of his door, looking down the stairwell. He glances down to where is feet are so he can slide his moccasins on, then he’s walking down the stairs with hot air coming out of his mouth like smoke. With each step he takes he thinks about how much he doesn’t want to talk about it with Niall. It’s been almost a year and he’s not over it, but that doesn’t mean he needs his best friend to be a counselor. 

When he gets down to where the metal trash bins are, he pulls the lid open and slams the junk into the bin. He shuts the lid and takes a moment to breathe, trying his hardest to push the thoughts that come creeping. He tries to close the wounds with his mind. He focuses on the rain and how it feels hitting the back of his head. 

“Hey! It’s you!” a voice calls from behind him. 

Louis turns around and he sees a somewhat familiar face. Before he can think of something better to say, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “You’re the Whole Foods guy.”

“Harry,” the boy says, silver ring covered hand coming up to comb through his long brown tresses which are wet with rain and most likely a morning shower. Louis can smell the fruity shampoo radiating off the boy. 

Harry laughs nervously. “You took off last night.” 

 _Shit_. Louis tries not to let any signs of his utter embarrassment show on his face. He forces a smile. “Oh, yeah. That’s right, innit? Kind of forgot.” 

Harry laughs. “Yeah, you forgot your groceries.” 

Louis doesn’t know what to say, and he definitely doesn’t expect it when Harry grabs him by the wrist and starts to pull him away. 

“I have your groceries at my place.” Harry replies simply, pulling Louis towards the front door of the first level of the town house. 

“You live down here?” Louis asks, completely dumbfounded by the situation. Because who would have thought? Harry the Whole Foods boy, the _really_ cute Whole Foods boy, lived right under him this whole time? All that runs through Louis’ head is the realization of how much of a complete and utter hermit he has been in the past few months. 

When they’re in the lower level, the first thing Louis notices is the smell of lavender. He looks around, taking in the white walls littered with photos of people and places and things. He sees a red, two-seater couch with a black and white kitten sleeping on it peacefully. His shoes touch something soft and fluffy, and when Louis looks down it’s a fluffy area rug with a cozy looking coffee table resting on it. 

Louis turns to see Harry at his fridge, digging in it for something. 

“I live here with my roommate, Liam. We go to the university across the way together.” Harry replies, bent over trying to find something. 

Louis squints his eyes, still standing in the middle of the living room. He tries not to stare at Harry’s bum, focussing on other things. The little kitten is now rubbing on his leg, purring loudly. He bends over to give her a pat. “Cute cat.” 

With Louis’ juice in hand, Harry smiles as he puts it into a reusable Whole Foods shopping bag. “That’s Ari. She’s my child since pregnant isn’t a thing I can become.” he says, also placing Louis’ toothpaste in the bag. Louis thinks he sees him put some other things in there too.

Louis’ eyes pop a bit at Harry’s statement. “Would you want to be pregnant if you could?” he asks before really thinking about his words. But when Harry bursts into a fit of laughter he mentally slaps himself in the face. The whole situation is becoming increasingly awkward and he can’t tell if Harry is serious. 

“Definitely.” Harry lets out, body still shaking from his laughter. 

 _Interesting_. Louis leaves it at that. 

Harry walks over. He holds the bag out for Louis to take. “There’s your toothpaste and your juice. I also added a few of my favorites in there.”

Louis looks into the bag to see some rather cutely designed cookies. They’re flower shaped and covered in edible glitter and pastel colored paint. “Um, thanks?” Louis’ hand reaches up to scratch the back of his neck. He was never really good at receiving gifts like this. 

Harry waves a hand, leading Louis to his front door. “It’s not a big deal, really. I work in the bakery at Whole Foods, so I have tons extra all the time.”

Before Louis can properly reply, his eyes are met with the sight of the pale skin of Harry’s tummy. There are two laurel branches with leaves surrounding his belly button, close to his hip bones. Harry’s hands come up to poke at the tiny bit of chub poking out from his tight jeans. “I clearly don’t need to be bringing home extra pastries.” he says with a laugh.  

Louis smiles at the floor, mentally slapping himself for the second time during the span of five fucking minutes…because _what the fuck is happening?_ Why the hell is he smiling at the floor? Why do his cheeks feel warm? And goddamn, why can he feel his eyes crinkling at their corners? 

“Y-You look fine to me.” he finds himself muttering. _Strike three, Tomlinson_ , he thinks. He winces after his own words, wishing he could take it back. 

There’s a little smile on Harry’s face, his cheeks a warm flush of pink. “You really think so?” 

Louis shrugs, trying to play it cool. He almost trips on Harry’s doormat. “I-I have to go.” he says, not sparing Harry another glance, not allowing himself the chance to get lost in those eyes. He walks away quickly, able to feel Harry’s eyes still on him as he disappears around the corner. He leans back against the wall and clutches his free hand over his heart. The pounding that his fingertips are met with scares him. 

 

* * *

 

The next time Louis sees Harry is about two weeks later when he has to stop at Whole Foods with Niall. They’re just walking around and talking. Niall points out various fruits that look like dicks, and Louis fake laughs at everything he says. He finds that he is more focussed on avoiding a certain grocery store employee. He knows that Harry works in the bakery, but last time he was just meandering in the hygiene aisle. So, he pushes Niall quickly throughout the store. 

“I kind of want a cookie or something.” Niall hums after twenty minutes of non-stop shopping. “Mmm. Maybe a croissant? Do you smell that?” 

Louis pulls his hand up to bite at his thumb nail. 

Niall pushes the cart toward the direction of the bakery. Louis sticks his foot in front of the cart wheel to stop it. 

“What the fuck?” 

“We can’t go there. Or, you could go alone. I can wait by the registers.” Louis says nervously, having a strong feeling that Harry is working today. 

Niall notices the way that Louis is keeping his eyes on the bakery. “What aren’t you telling me?” 

Louis shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand. “S’nothing.” 

A blonde eyebrow raises. “Then come with me to the bakery.”

“Uh, no.” 

“Or, you can tell me what you're hiding since it seems to be such a big deal.” Niall rolls his eyes after saying it. “What’s your beef with the bakery, Lou?” 

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest. He shuts his eyes lightly and tilts his chin up at the bakery. “Let’s go get pastries then, shall we?”

Niall laughs. “You’re ridiculous.” He pushes the cart in the direction the bakery, each second bringing them closer. 

The smell gets stronger as they near the bakery, and Louis’ heart quickens. Harry might not even be working today. And so what if he is? It’s not like Louis has feelings for him or anything. He doesn’t. He just doesn’t. 

When they pull up to the counter, Louis is happy when he sees a girl with brown curls and a yellow cardigan working the counter. He can breathe for a moment, happy to prove to Niall that there is nothing going on. He lets his attention wander to the smell of the buffet area. The eggs and bacon smell phenomenal. His eyes haze over a bit as he listens to Niall ask the girl about the best pastries to get, and then he hears another voice. 

“You should get some of these croissants. Just made them. Fresh out of the oven.” 

He doesn’t bother to turn his attention back to the bakery because he doesn’t feel the need to. But when he hears his name being called, he shifts his body so that he’s facing Niall. “Hm?” 

“Which do you want? Croissants for tea or cookies?” 

And then. 

“Hi, Louis!” 

His attention definitely perks at that. His glossy blue eyes glance up to where Harry is standing in his signature work apron and a fucking _lavender_ colored sweater that’s obviously too big for him, drooping down past his hips a little bit. His long waves are being held back by a black scarf looking cloth, and of course, he’s got a big smile plastered on his face. His rosy cheeks are covered in what appears to be flour, and Louis has to look away for a minute. How does someone in a lavender sweater look so fuckable? _How?_

“Um, hey.” he manages to cough out, trying not to look at Harry…even though he can feel those big eyes staring him down. 

Harry moves so that he is standing in front of Louis, the only thing separating them is the pastry window. “Hi, um. How are you?” 

“Fine,” Louis deadpans, not really up for much conversation. He leaves it at that, and Harry most definitely shuts up. 

Niall is still talking to the girl called Nancy, and he looks everywhere but at Harry who’s still standing there. But the one moment he decides to look at Harry he notices the way his shoulders have sunk and how his head is hanging a bit lower than it was when he first saw Louis. He doesn’t pay it any mind though, focussing on the sounds of Niall counting coins so he can pay. 

The receipt prints noisily from the machine and Nancy offers him a wide smile. “Thanks, love. See you soon I hope!” 

Niall gives Nancy a nod before he looks over to Harry. “Thanks for the advice, mate. Excited to try these.” 

“You’re welcome.” Harry replies, voice significantly less chipper than it was. Harry turns to say something to Nancy that Louis can’t hear, and it’s probably better that way.

Louis doesn’t bother turning around, too focussed on getting to the cash registers in the front. He follows Niall like a sad child being picked up from a playdate. He looks to the side and he can still see Harry standing there in his peripheral vision, probably still looking at him. He wonders for a moment why he’s such a fuck up. 

 

* * *

 

Louis doesn’t know how he finds himself standing at Harry’s door three hours later, but here he is. He contemplates the consequences that his actions might have. Harry might be at a loss from their encounter earlier, so that could be problematic in the way that it makes for an awkward situation. 

He glances at the wind chime hanging from the roof. He listens to the sound it makes accompanied by raindrops pelting down violently. He thinks about how he will interact with someone who is kind of a stranger to him. It’s been a long time since he’s made new friends. It’s hard when his only friend is Niall. They make each other recluses. 

But somehow, Louis brings his fist up to the blue wooden door. He knocks three times, half hoping that Harry won’t answer. But the pounding footsteps that get closer and closer to him are evidence that Harry is home. 

When the door swings open, he’s met with a pair of eyes that most certainly do not belong to Harry. “Oh.” he says. 

The boy pulls a white headphone out of his ear. “Can I help you?” 

Louis brings his hand up to scratch his neck, something he does a lot when he is nervous. “Hey, yeah. I live upstairs actually. Was just wondering if Harry’s here?” 

The boy doesn’t even spare him a glance before he’s trotting back off towards the hall, leaving Louis standing there with nothing else. He disappears into a door down the hall, and Louis is left speechless. “Okay?” he finds himself saying. He wonders if he should go in? Should he just come back another time? 

The unfamiliar boy’s head pops out of the door down the hall. “You can come in.” he calls over before shutting the door again. 

Louis doesn’t really give the situation much thought. He finds himself walking into Harry’s place, nose instantly met with the smell of baked goods. As he walks through the small entry way, he sees the kitten called Ari sleeping in the same spot on the couch next to a closed MacBook Pro and a grey quilt. He seeks comfort in the tiny animal, walking over to the couch and taking a seat next to her. 

The little kitten rolls, stretching her little limbs. A purr instantly rolls out of her, and Louis strokes her tiny head. He smiles when her purrs become even more intense. He rubs the underside of her chin, and laughs when she nips at his finger playfully. “You’re so cute,” he whispers. His eyes catch a tiny kitten toy near his foot. So he bends over to grab it and he dangles it over Ari’s head, laughing when she claws at the small mouse. 

It’s only a few minutes until Louis hears another door creak open slowly. His eyes wander down the hallway where he can see Harry coming out from what appears to be the bathroom. 

Harry doesn’t seem to notice him, clearly fresh from a shower with a white towel wrapped around his head in a turban-like manner. Louis kind of smiles at that. 

“Hey,” he calls out, mock clearing his throat. 

Harry jumps about three feet in the air, a small yelp leaving him. Louis tries not to laugh, but he just can’t help it. Harry sinks in relief, obviously startled. 

“You’re here,” he says, and Louis can’t tell if it’s questioning or surprised. All he can tell is that there is this little sparkle in Harry’s eyes, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it. 

“Yeah, here I am.”

Ari jumps down from the couch, prancing over to Harry with a small prrrt sound. Harry bends over and gives her a little pat on the head. 

“You gonna make me stay out here alone?” Louis asks coyly. 

“Oh, um…” Harry responds, obviously thinking for a moment. “Did you need something? Is that why you’re here?” 

Louis shakes his head, making a game show buzzer sound. “Wrong.” 

Harry laughs, hands moving up to stroke his hair. His eyes widen when he realizes his towel is still on his head. He instantly yanks it off, mop of hair falling over his eyes. “Sorry, wasn’t expecting to have any guests.” He’s embarrassed. 

Louis stands up from the couch. “Not your fault, was mine. Didn’t give you a warning. I can go.” 

“No, wait,” Harry takes a step forward. “Do you…um, want to hang out? Or something?” 

Louis notes how awkward Harry actually is, and he finds himself smiling. “Sure? I don’t really have anything to do today.” 

“Okay, well you can come in my room if you want?” Harry asks, voice sounding nervous. 

Louis nods before walking over to follow Harry down the hall. The single door at the end of the hall is where they stop and Harry pushes it open slowly. 

The first thing Louis notices are the white walls littered with little polaroids and printed quotes. There are white fairy lights twinkling from the ceiling, filling the empty spaces on the walls. There’s a bed in the left corner of the room under a big window with white sheets and a lilac teddy bear on it. To the right of the bed there is a vanity that has several candles on it, some raw quartz bits, and a vase with fresh lavender plants in it. 

The rest of the room is tidy and simple, nothing more than the bare essentials of a bedroom. Louis takes particular note of the record player sitting on a wooden chair in another corner, and the closet full of jumpers and flannels and boots. There’s also a little desk against one of the walls with a lamp sitting on it and stacks of papers on top. It’s a simple set up. Louis quite likes it. Much better than his own boring room. 

He steps on a white t-shirt that was discarded onto the wood floor before bending over to pick it up. “Cute top,” he blurts out, examining the vintage Rolling Stones summer tour ad on it. 

Harry grabs it from Louis gently, their eyes meeting for a moment. “It’s my favorite.” 

“There’s a hole in it.” 

“It’s my favorite.” Harry repeats before turning around to toss it into the wooden clothing hamper. He walks over to where the record player is, and he kneels down to scan his options from a little wooden crate box. 

Louis plops down onto Harry’s bed, noting how soft the mattress feels. The sheets also feel really clean when he runs his hands over them. 

“Do you have any music preferences?” Harry’s fingers comb through the box. “I have like, new stuff and old stuff. Probably anything you could think of.”

Louis doesn’t reply at first, kind of transfixed on the way Harry’s fingers look sorting through the records. 

“Or would you rather watch a movie or something?” Harry asks, turning so he’s facing Louis. “Is that weird?”

Louis perks up. “Is what weird?” 

“I mean,” Harry pauses to think for a minute. “We’ve like, never hung out before? And I’m asking you if you want to watch a movie.” 

Louis laughs and Harry pouts. “What?” 

“It’s just.” Louis chuckles into his hand. “It’s not like you’re asking to get into bed with me or something, though I’m sure you’d have no trouble at all with that.” 

“Wouldn’t really know how, so there wouldn’t be much a point.” Harry mutters a bit too honestly. 

 _Yikes_ , Louis thinks.

The room goes kind of silent for a bit, both of them just sitting there soaking up the awkwardness of the situation. Louis doesn’t really know how to recover from this. Maybe he should just get up and leave? Make up some lame excuse so he can go back and hole up in his flat, with his no friends and no life. But then Harry gets up from the floor. “Gonna go grab my laptop really quick. Do you want a snack? I made some cinnamon rolls.” 

“A cinnamon roll sounds great,” Louis smiles happily, feeling a bit of relief. Maybe he can do this after all. 

Harry nods before spinning on the balls of his feet. His hair flows as he leaves the room. 

Louis looks around his room, further investigating the polaroids on Harry’s walls. He sees a lot of girls, which doesn’t really surprise him since Harry seems to be such a catch. But for a moment he kind of got the gay vibe from Harry. Like, the whole reoccurring lavender theme and twinkly lights hanging from the ceiling. Also, the lilac teddy bear that’s staring him down felt like a sign. 

Louis knows not to assume a sexuality on someone, but he can’t help it sometimes…especially when Harry’s always so clean and his bed sheets have lace detailing on them. 

Louis shakes his head. He’s not going to assume something, because then he’ll really be screwed. He’s just looking for a friend. That’s all. He and Harry could probably be friends. Yeah, that’s it. That’s all they’ll be. 

When Harry walks back into the room a few moments later, he’s got a plate full of frosted cinnamon buns in one hand and his massive laptop in the other. He hands the plate to Louis and sets the laptop down on the side where he’ll probably sit.

Louis can hear the rain starting to fall outside, it’s well near nighttime and he finds that there’s a chill causing his bones to ache. The pattering of the rain against the window is calming, and Louis sees Harry in the corner of his eye lightning some candles. He can instantly sense the smell of the candles. It’s a smell he can’t really put his finger on, but it’s nice. Reminds him of just being home. 

He falls out of his daze when he feels a heavy blanket being tossed on him. It’s a knitted quilt. He gives Harry a look. 

“You’re shivering.” Harry justifies, giving him a small smile as he’s walking over to the other side of the bed. He manages to get his gangly limbs up and over Louis without falling, and he plops down. “Our heating’s broken. Sorry.” 

“Really?” Louis asks. “Mine’s working just fine.” 

Harry clicks his tongue. “Lucky you.” 

Louis smiles, grabbing a cinnamon roll from the plate. 

 

* * *

 

Louis finds himself waking up when he hears thunder strike the earth. He glances around only to be met with a dark room illuminated by twinkling orbs and dying candle flames. The rain is pouring down roughly outside, wind chimes dangling violently. It’s almost peaceful, but then he hears another roar from the thunder shaking the earth once more. His eyes scan the room until he stops at where his phone is pressed into his shoulder. He taps at the home button and sees the time. 4:33 AM. 

His eyes continue to scan the room and he can see the Netflix error screen bright on the laptop that’s resting above his head. And then he sees Harry. Harry with his soft looking eyelids shut, lips parted and breaths coming out gentle. His chest rises and falls delicately, like everything about him. _Soft_. 

Louis rolls over slightly, his bones popping just a bit. He sighs, feeling content in the moment. But then his phone pings loudly. He tries to shush the 3 second long notification, noticing the way that it makes Harry shift. He switches his ringer to mute, and he unlocks his phone to read the incoming text from Niall. 

_where the fuck r u???_

Louis rolls his eyes before tapping out a reply. 

**im home**

_no ur not_

Louis almost laughs at how fast the reply came. He types again, fingers maneuvering the buttons quietly. 

**in bed**

He sends the text before shutting his eyes again, kind of hoping that maybe waking up will be a dream and he can just go back to sleeping. But another two texts come through. 

_let me in_

And then…

_im outside rn_

Louis hops up as quietly as he can from the bed, trying his best not to disturb the sleeping boy. He notices how Harry’s hair dried, his waves much more voluminous and shapely. He looks kind of cute. Another text comes in.

_????_

He looks around the room for his hoodie, panicking a bit when he can’t find it. But then he panics even more when he realizes that _wow_ , he didn’t even bring a jacket or a sweater. In a frantic manner he scampers around the room before deciding to snatch the flannel that’s hung over the footboard of Harry’s bed. He pulls it on, sleeves hanging a few inches too far. It’s warm. That’s all that matters. 

In his haste, he grabs a pad of sticky notes from Harry’s desk and he pulls the lid of a sharpie off with his teeth. He writes three words before pulling the sticky note off and sticking it onto the empty plate where the cinnamon rolls once were. Little crumbs surround the note, the words **“ _see you soon”_** , are scrawled messily. 

He does Harry the favor of closing his laptop before he leaves the room and Harry’s place entirely, using his phone for a flashlight. 

When he gets upstairs he doesn’t bother explaining anything to Niall, who looks too drunk to care. He just unlocks the door and lets them both in. 

It feels weird being back in his flat. Somehow less warm. Even though his heater actually works and is running, he feels cold being in his house. It’s almost like there’s something missing. When he’s lying in bed again, he can’t help but think about Harry, who’s downstairs sleeping in his own bed. He thinks of the quilt and the cinnamon rolls. There’s something unfamiliar in his chest, and he rolls onto his side to push it away. 

When he closes his eyes, he sees what he’s been seeing for the last few months. The bearded smile that’s been haunting his dreams laughs and tries to reel him back in. But, it’s odd because when he blinks his eyes and shuts them again, he sees red lips and brown curls. The cigarette smoke in his mind clears away and he can see fingers rummaging through a box of records. He sees a world he’s never known, and he falls asleep with these things in his mind. 

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Louis wakes to the sound of Niall snoring. There’s an insane amount of harsh winds blowing outside, and Louis swears he can hear the wind chimes from downstairs dancing in the violent air. His eyes open slowly, blinking a few times until he feels ready to keep them open. 

Apparently Niall can sense that Louis is awake, signifying his conscious state with a loud yawn. The blonde stretches his arms up high enough to where they hit the headboard clumsily. “Ouch,” he mutters, trying to shake the pain out of his left hand. 

Louis laughs silently, trying to keep his eyes closed so that Niall doesn’t assume he’s awake. He’d quite like to stay in bed a bit longer, just so he can delay the talk about last night. He realizes that Niall demands to know a lot, just as he expects that Louis is there to listen to all he has to say. Niall has always been the kind who likes to share stories. Louis on the other hand…not so much. 

Louis was always fond of the morning after being something private. Like an unspoken secret, Louis always liked spending the mornings after long nights reveling in his recollections. So Louis delights when Niall leaves his room to go to the living room. 

Louis can hear the sound of the television going, some sports channel blaring loudly. He rolls over in his sheets and brings his hands up so the sleeves of the shirt he’s wearing caress his cheeks and his tired eyes. But he stops for a moment. He’s in Harry’s flannel still. 

Different from the darkness of last night, the light of the morning shows him that Harry’s flannel is a pretty dark blueish green color. He brings the fabric up to his nose and lets himself inhale for just a moment. His senses soak up the remnants of the other boy, reminding him that yes, last night happened. Harry’s flannel smells like baked goods and lavender and winter time, all things Louis adores.

He sits straight up in bed, taking note of the time. It’s 12:37 in the afternoon. He slept in all through the morning, having completely missed the sound of the rain and the cars reeling through the streets. He brings his forefinger up to caress his lips that haven’t been kissed in so long and he thinks about how Harry might have woken up this morning. 

Maybe Harry rolled awake in his white sheets with the quilt still wrapped around his body. He might have opened his green eyes slowly, dark eyelashes batting like the wings of a butterfly. His lips might have been a deeper shade of red than normal because the way his face was pressed into his pillow. Louis thinks that maybe Harry woke in confusion, only to be met with the tiny note in the cinnamon roll crumbs, the only evidence that Louis was even there. 

Louis thinks that in whichever way Harry rose from his sleep, he did so in a way that was as delicate and beautiful as the boy himself. 

Moments later, Louis is sitting at his dining table across from a very hungover Niall. They eat eggs and sausage in silence, the only sounds present come from the football game on the tv. 

“You okay?” Louis finds himself asking. He pushes eggs around on his plate with his fork, finding his stomach in too many knots that have killed his appetite. He wonders why. But then again, he doesn’t want to know. 

Niall shakes his head, shoulders hunched rather low. 

Louis purses his lips. “Would you like to talk about it?” 

Again, the boy shakes his head. 

This leaves Louis at a loss. Niall is never this closed off, like ever. So it’s strange that he is acting so reserved. Louis doesn’t give it another thought, assuming that Niall’s hangover has just got the best of him. He walks over to the sink so he can clear his plate. He looks out through the window over the sink and he notices how hazy the day seems to be. 

There is a thick layer of fog traveling through the area surrounding the townhouse. He can’t see anything in the distance. It’s all grey, like they’re in the clouds. 

He spends the rest of the day lounging around in Harry’s flannel, grey sweatpants, and his favorite pair of socks. He flicks through the television, finding nothing good to watch. At one point he finds himself getting on Facebook, and he actually resists the urge to lurk over to Zayn’s profile page. Nothing makes him sadder than seeing how Zayn’s life is now that he isn’t in the picture. They’re not friends on the stupid social media website, but Zayn doesn’t have his privacy set to keep Louis out. 

Louis has spent many hours scrolling through Zayn’s feed and resisting the urge to cry at all of the new photos he’s been tagged in. These days, Zayn’s hair is longer and his face is somehow older looking. His eyes still scream the same cold warmth Louis used to know so well. Louis finds that he spends extra time on the photos of Zayn smoking, the candids where he is unaware of the photo being taken. Some guy named Stephen is always tagging him in photos. It’s because of this that Louis doesn’t know which is worse. Seeing new photos of Zayn or seeing who’s been posting them. 

The foggy sun is starting to set and Louis finds himself back on Facebook. Instead of searching for Zayn, he finds himself slowly typing out the letters _H…a…r…r…y_. He’s surprised when a familiar face pops up under the name Harry Styles. With much hesitation, he clicks on the profile. 

When the page pulls up he’s met with Harry Styles: baker at Whole Foods since 2012, studying photography at university, born on February 1, 1994, and currently single. 

Louis taps on his profile photo, which is a photo of Harry holding a Packers mug in one hand and waving with the other. His big smile brings a little warmth to Louis’ chest, and he finds himself swiping left to see the rest of the profile photos. Most of them consist of family and friends, and there are a few occasional solo shots with a camera covering his face. Louis laughs at an older photo of Harry in which he is pulling a funny face at someone named Gemma Styles, who’s tagged in the picture. 

Louis clicks out of the profile photos when he reaches the end and he dedicates a few minutes to scrolling on Harry’s profile. The first thing that catches his eye is a photo album titled “photography.” Louis navigates through the photos and he sees many black and white photos of people and places, one of them being a field full of lavender. The caption on the photo reads, “mine.” Louis stares at the photo, wondering where it might be. He’s never seen the place in his life. 

He decides to leave it at that, locking his phone. When he looks up his eyes have to adjust to the light of evening. The sun hasn’t quite set yet, but it is well on its way with a pink streaked sky. This is the first time in a few days that the rain hasn’t been pouring down. 

Louis glances at the sky through the window, his eyes sensitive to the light. London hasn’t been this rainy in years. It’s almost crazy to him. Though he never really minded the rain, he can admit that the nonstop downpour that this year has brought is somewhat surprising to him. 

For just a moment, his mind wanders back to the past. If he’s learned anything from allowing his mind to wander back to the past, it’s that he shouldn’t. Every time this happens, he knows how much it messes him up. Yet, he lets it happen. Why does he let it happen? 

He thinks about cold days spent in coffee shops with his face behind a book because that’s how he used to spend them before he met Zayn. He didn’t ever talk much to anyone. But that September day, the winds raced into the coffee shop and they brought something that seemed amazing at the time. Zayn had walked in with his hair blown all over the place and a scarf wrapped around his neck. His eyes were warm when they met Louis’. But of course, Louis didn’t know just how cold they really were. 

He remembers from that point on, how completely latched on he was to the other boy. They had met during a rough time for Louis. Thinking back on it now, Louis thinks that maybe he only got so attached because of what was going on in other areas of his life. His parents were splitting for the first time and his younger sisters were caught in a massive custody battle. Of course his father never really cared for him as much as the bastard did his sisters, but…that fact only added on to how bad things were. 

With Zayn he kind of felt like he could face the days again. He wasn’t all there, but he was making the effort. Louis thinks that maybe that’s the one favor Zayn did him. The other boy always pushed him to be better than the things he had no control over, like his parents getting a divorce. 

That’s why it’s so ironic that Louis can’t push himself away from the fact that Zayn left him. Louis had no control over it, even though he’s blamed himself time and time again. But looking back on it, Zayn was the one who had the control in the situation. 

Louis sits up from the couch, his head aching with the thoughts racing through his head. His hands come up to massage his temples. He shouldn’t have gone there, shouldn’t have come to this place that only does bad things to him. Something drags him back every time. Something is there that is keeping him hostage to the pain he’s endured this past year. He doesn't know what it is, but he can feel it tearing him apart. 

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean hold it?” Louis asks with a loud cackle. 

Harry lowers the camera from his face. His eyes close slowly, a smug smile on his face. “Hold the pose,” he says, beginning to lift the camera up again. His finger attempts to make its way back up to the shutter release but stops when Louis pouts in confusion. 

“M’not a model, you know.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” Harry replies with a nervous laugh, taking a quick photo when Louis finally smiles. 

They’re at a park. Louis doesn’t really know how Harry managed to drag him out of his two-day-old sweats and undying pessimism, but he did. Louis looks out to where he can see what he assumes to be a couple and their kids. “Do you think they’re together?” Louis asks, pointing his finger. 

Harry lets his camera fall against his chest, his shoulder strap there to catch it. “The two men?” he asks, taking a moment to look. 

“Yeah.” Louis replies. 

Harry smiles. “Hope they are. That would be terribly cute.”

Louis laughs, heart warming at the words. He watches Harry point his camera towards the couple, snapping a quick shot of them. He looks down at his camera, smiling when he goes to look at the photo. 

“So, what’s your story Louis?” Harry asks, now trying to take a photo of the dark sky. 

There was no rain today, thankfully. There was only a small amount of drizzle in the early hours of the morning, but it wasn’t anything severe. 

Louis lets himself soak up the silence following Harry’s question. He doesn’t really know how to respond because he doesn’t even know his story on days like this. 

“I’m just here?” he finally responds, following a loud clicking sound from Harry’s camera. 

Harry doesn’t look away from his camera, fingers twisting the focus on a small flower sitting in the grass. There are drops from the dew on the blades of grass surrounding the flower, and Harry takes a few more photos of them. 

“I mean,” Louis continues. “Moved here for uni, and all that.” 

Harry looks at him with a smile on his face. “Is that all?” 

Louis purses his lips. There’s a bit of a sprinkle beginning to happen, light patting sounds on the playground structures near them. The people slowly begin to leave the park, one by one as the rain starts to pick up. “Um…I guess? I mean, there’s nothing really interesting about me.” 

“Hm.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Harry says smugly. 

Louis squints his eyes at the boy. He knows that Harry’s dying to know at least something new about him, so he gives Harry the bone he’s looking for. “Well, ask me what you want to know.” 

Harry glances at him. “Where are you originally from?” 

“Doncaster,” Louis answers. 

“Siblings?”

“Four younger sisters.” he smiles. “Charlotte, Felicite, Daisy, and Phoebe.”

“I’ve got a sister called Gemma. She’s older though.” 

“Nice,” Louis smiles, adjusting his hoodie. “What else would you like to know?” 

Harry takes a moment before he asks his next question. His eyes look longing and nervous, darting from the street to where Louis is sitting not too far from him. “Um. Girlfriends? Boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends,” Louis laughs. 

Harry’s cheek flush a light shade of pink. He looks down at his shoes, trying to get a scuff off of his left one with his right foot. “Any um, right now?” 

Louis shakes his head. “None for me right now. How about you? Boyfriends or girlfriends?” he mimics. 

“Boyfriends, definitely boyfriends.” Harry answers confidently. He knows himself. 

Just to be a shit, Louis follows the same string of questions Harry asked. He bats his eyelashes dramatically. “Any boyfriends, Harry _darling_?” 

“Oh, um…” Harry replies, staring down at the floor. He pushes some loose gravel to the side with his foot. “No, no boyfriends.” 

Louis looks at him with an amused expression on his face. He lifts a brow, noticing the way Harry’s looking everywhere else except for him. “No boyfriends?” 

“No.” he says, softer now. 

Wait a minute, Louis thinks. “Like, ever?” he speaks aloud, doubting that Harry will answer his question in the way he thinks. 

Harry clears his throat. “Never.” 

“No fucking way,” Louis says with a nervous smile on his face. “Never? But you’re such a catch!” 

Harry shrugs, the sound of the rain becoming stronger now against the playground. Harry’s hair is getting wet, little drops beginning to roll off of his curls. Meanwhile Louis sits under the shelter of his hood.

Louis notices that Harry’s camera has fallen to his chest. He sees the way Harry’s fingers are picking at each other nervously, showing no desire to return to the controls of the camera. He feels the energy coming off of Harry and all of a sudden he doesn’t like it. Deciding to break the silence, he gets up from where he was sitting. 

“C’mon, kid. It’s getting really wet out here. We should go somewhere else.” 

Harry looks up, eyes still avoiding Louis’. 

They walk in silence for the next few minutes until they reach Louis’ car in the parking lot. 

They both climb in and Louis turns the key, bringing the car to life. The rain drops are pelting down onto the windshield, and the motor of the car is humming lightly. Louis plugs the aux cord into his cell phone. He taps around until he settles on a song. 

“Are going to make fun of me now?” Harry finally says out of the blue.

Louis turns to look at him. His features are soft, but his eyebrows are sharp—pensive, almost. He looks on guard. Louis shakes his head. “Why would I make fun of you?” 

“Because I’m twenty one and I’ve never had a proper boyfriend.” he responds. 

Louis just wants to hug him. Is that what he was so nervous about? “Harry,” Louis says softly. “I wouldn’t make fun of you for that. More than anything, I’m just surprised. You seem like a great person. A total catch, like I said.” 

“I came from a pretty small town, and it was hard being like me there.” Harry admits, talking with his hands.

“Being gay?” 

Harry nods. “I wasn’t really close with anyone anymore once I came out. People kind of started to hate me? Which I didn’t understand. It was hard.” 

Louis stares out into the distance, letting the raindrops on the window fall out of focus as his memories come back into play. He remembers meeting Zayn at nineteen. He more remembers the coffee shop and how full his heart felt when Zayn chose him. Out of everyone else, Zayn picked him. He was a loner at best, and Zayn didn’t seem to care. But like usual, his train of thoughts travel out of those cold coffee shop nights and right into the blinding heat of the summer months. 

It was a hot summer night when _it_ happened. He and Zayn were parked lakeside in Doncaster, and they had just fought about something ridiculous. Louis thought that the silence would fade away and Zayn would light a smoke and mutter something about how the situation was stupid and that they could get through anything. But the moment never came. Instead, Zayn turned the car on and put it into reverse. He remembers how Zayn said, “Gonna take you home now. I can’t do this anymore.” 

Louis was so confused at the time. He had just graduated from university and the real world was becoming a reality. Life felt amazing without coursework and stress. He thought that maybe he and Zayn would settle in a nearby place, or somewhere else. Zayn had always wanted to move back to Bradford after spending time in London with Louis. 

Louis was so in love that he would have followed Zayn anywhere. 

But he remembers seeing those dreams crushed and broken, playing the words over in his mind while burying his head in the darkness of his pillowcase that night. He remembers how it felt to breathe for the first time, coming up for air with tears streaming down his face. His heart was torn out of his chest and left somewhere by that lake in Doncaster. All of the good memories he had ever had there with his family or Zayn were ruined by that one night.  

The last time he saw Zayn was through the half rolled down window of his car. Louis had spit out something about love and the concept of always. But Zayn shook his head, averting his gaze far away from Louis. 

“I won’t be with you, can’t be with you.” was the last thing he said before driving off, leaving Louis on the street in front of his house. Louis lost a piece of himself that day, and he’s not been the same since. 

“Louis?” Harry’s voice comes quietly, stopping the silent storm in Louis’ mind.

“Well, I can tell you from experience that relationships aren’t all they’re made out to be.” Louis says, trying to ease the tension in the car. He spits the words out quickly, and he can physically feel the way Harry shrinks. He could have provided Harry with some great, useful advice. But he had to decide to waste his opportunity because of his past. 

“Oh.” Harry replies in a small voice, his shoulders shrinking just a bit more. 

Louis notices how small Harry looks in the seat, despite his actual size. He looks small and young, fragile and innocent, everything Louis hates. Before Zayn, Louis was an individual filled with innocence and a hope for the good things in life. He sees the same qualities in Harry, and in that moment he only thinks of how wrong it feels to be here with Harry. So, in order to protect himself, he puts the car into reverse. “Ready to go?” 

Harry buckles his seatbelt slowly. “Um, yeah. Sure.” 

The drive back to where they live is quiet except for the music playing from Louis’ phone. Louis waves to Harry once he gets out of the car, beating himself up on the inside for ruining the whole day. It’s short, and it ends with Harry saying a quiet goodbye. Unlike the times before, the butterflies in Louis’ stomach are bats and they tear at his insides. There’s no promise of when they’ll see each other again. Louis is completely okay with that. 

 

* * *

 

A few days later Louis is sitting with Niall on the couch. He hasn’t talked to Harry yet since that time, and he’s okay with that. They’re watching Bridesmaids and sharing a huge bowl of popcorn. It’s already dark outside and the movie’s still in the beginning phases. There’s this awkward tension in the air, and Louis can’t really point out what it might be. He just tries to ignore it in hopes that it’ll go away. 

But it’s about halfway through the movie that Niall breaks the silence. “I haven’t seen you much lately…” 

Louis doesn’t look away from the screen. “You think so?”

Niall pauses the movie. “Yeah, I do. Where have you been?” 

Louis shrugs. “I’ve been here mainly?”

“I’ve been coming over and no one’s home.” Niall replies. 

Louis’ heart thumps when he thinks about what he’s been doing, who he’s been hanging out with. “Just have been hanging out with a friend. That’s all.” 

Niall tilts his head like a curious puppy. “A friend?”

Louis just nods, trying to avoid the question entirely. He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Niall right now, or ever if he can help it. It’s not that he doesn’t value Niall, it’s more that he doesn’t want Niall to worry about him. 

After the Zayn thing, Niall was the only one there for him. They had all been friends, but Niall chose Louis over Zayn. He thought that the whole situation was fucked up, and he was there for Louis. He was the only friend who was there because he genuinely wanted to be. Louis’ other friends were just nosy. More than anything though, Niall had become really protective over Louis when the whole thing happened. 

It’s not like Louis didn't appreciate how much Niall cared, but Niall could be really critical of guys that Louis took interest in. Not to say that he was interested in Harry that way…at least, not that he would like to admit. But, the whole point boiled down to how Niall usually rejected most of the people Louis would spend time with. So it’s not hard to imagine how hesitant Louis felt when Niall started asking about who he was hanging out with now. 

“Yeah, just a friend.” he finally responds. “I think. After yesterday, I don’t know anymore.” 

Niall’s eyebrows lift high on his forehead. “What do you mean?” 

Louis’ heart shrinks a bit. “It’s nothing.” 

Niall stands up from the couch suddenly with an emotion on his face that Louis hasn’t seen before. He starts walking away from the couch, grabbing his shoes on the way to the front door. 

Louis sits up, blinking in confusion. “Where are you going, Niall?” 

Niall turns back once. “I’m leaving.” he murmurs lowly, noticing that Louis’ face still looks confused. “You have your new friend that you’re hanging out with. You don’t want to talk to me about it obviously, so that’s your problem, Louis.” 

Louis watches in bewilderment as Niall walks out the door, leaving Louis with nothing else but a slam that echoes through the apartment. Louis can feel the force vibrate through his body, through his ribs. His bones rattle with rage and he grabs a pillow and screams into it for a moment. He’s angry, that’s all. 

He’s angry at Harry because he’s just there and Louis doesn’t understand what he’s up to. He’s angry at Niall because he’s never going to understand what he does to Louis sometimes. He’s angry at Zayn for fucking him up and leaving him like this. But most of all, he’s angry at himself because that’s the whole reason he’s in this mess. If he wasn’t so fucking good at ruining everything, maybe he could just be happy for once and stop ruining it for everyone else. 

It’s been a long time since he’s been able to let people in. It’s been a long time since he’s actually done something with his life. For Christ’s sake, he graduated uni almost over a year ago and he’s done nothing with his English degree. He could be a teacher right now, like he’s always wanted to be. But he never went for it, instead he’s wasted his life on being sad and staying in bed most days. He doesn’t know how his saved up funds haven’t run out yet. He’s been living on them since he got out of uni. He knows that they’re probably going to run out within the next year, yet he can’t find a care to give. 

In that moment he wonders exactly when it was that he stopped caring about things so much, when he stopped caring about himself. Did Zayn really drain him that much? Or was it all due to himself? 

The thunder outside starts pounding against the earth again, much like drums. Louis doesn’t bother moving from where he is. He sits for a moment, staring into the darkness of his home. He contemplates texting Niall for a moment when he stares down at his phone, noting that it’s been like, _six_ minutes since the blonde took off. He’s really quite pathetic, sitting there in the darkness listening to the thunder and thinking about how it’s hard to be alone sometimes. For a second he kind of thinks that he misses living at home with his mother and the girls. Maybe things would have been easier if he had stayed back in Doncaster. 

Thunder strikes a tree outside, causing one of the smaller branches to snap and fall to the ground with a loud thud. Scratch what he was thinking before. He definitely wouldn’t have been better off if he had stayed back in Doncaster. He was miserable there. He couldn’t be who he wanted to be, and all the best schools were in London. So, it was the natural choice for him. 

London seemed so big then, much bigger than his small flat. He wanted to get out, wanted a life much bigger than everything back in Doncaster. 

He knew everyone in Doncaster, and maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. London is cold and rainy and it’s rare for him to run into someone he knows. The people are cold to him too. He can’t remember the last time a stranger smiled at him if he really thinks about it. 

But those are the thoughts that have the potential to put him into a mindset that just isn’t healthy. So he doesn’t go there…even when he scrolls on his Instagram feed, seeing his friends back at home getting married and having children and settling down in homes that look warmly decorated. In those moments he has to pull himself away from that thinking, force himself to think about something else because it sucks feeling like you’re going absolutely nowhere in life. It sucks feeling like you’re walking around with boulders for shoes. 

In the present, Louis pulls himself up from the couch with the blanket wrapped around his body. He makes his way around the couch and through the kitchen, almost tripping when he doesn’t see one of the chairs in his dining room not pushed in. He walks around it, heading straight for his bedroom. When his door creaks open he sees his unmade bed and he walks up to it with every intention of jumping into it with reckless abandon. He does. The next thing he does is close his eyes, Harry kind of on his mind. He doesn’t even feel guilty for it either.

He’s so sick and tired of everything that he doesn’t even try to fight himself on what he should be thinking about. He silences the voices, allowing himself to float away to the thought of Harry’s lips and how they look when they form words and string sentences together. He thinks about how soft they might feel, like the petals of a rose. 

If Harry exists as the petals of a rose, then Louis is the thorns. 

 

* * *

 

He’s at an art show. It’s mid November and he’s got a heavy knit scarf wrapped around his neck and a warm cup in his hand. The smell of tea fills his nose as he brings it up to take another sip. His eyes scan the room, taking in the sight of all the people crowding booths.

There’s a live band playing some off beat indie music, and he thinks about how he hasn’t been to an art show since he was at uni. It’s funny because he used to go to art shows to escape his loneliness in hopes of finding likeminded people. Look at him now. Not much has changed. 

He walks through the large room, underneath the lights hanging from the ceiling. He surveys each booth, taking only a few moments to look at the art that they are trying to put out there. One of the booths is a henna stand, run by a guy who claims his henna is unlike that of any other. Louis raises a brow before moving on to the next one which is being run a small girl with lion-like hair. She laughs at something someone says to her, and her wild hair bounces. Louis stares at her display, taking in the photography of women posing nude. All of the women have tattoos and piercings, much like the girl herself. 

“Oh, no. I could never be even half as beautiful as my models are.” he hears her say bashfully. Louis spares her a smile when their eyes meet, thinking that they could be friends if he wasn’t so awful. Aside of that, he thinks about how he has always liked humble artists like her.

He moves on from her booth and takes in the sight of the other booths. He doesn’t pay any particular attention to any of them, just happy to be there. He doesn’t feel lonely in this room full of people, people who have the same interests he does. It’s nice being in a place where he feels like he can walk alone and not be judged by other people. He tosses his empty cup in a nearby trash bin as he walks by multiple booths.  

The next booth he takes notice of is more minimalistic in appearance. The booth consists of a white wall covered in black and white photographs in vintage frames. The photos consist of people and places that aren’t familiar to Louis. Each photo is a mystery of its own, and Louis finds that he can’t crack the theme. The other booths were obvious in their message, but this one isn’t. He crosses his arms over his chest, facing the display. 

It’s not until he sees a few self portraits that he realizes something. He squints his eyes at the unique clothes, a shirt in particular. He’s seen the patterned shirt somewhere before. The night he was at Harry’s, he clearly remembers seeing that shirt tossed over a chair or something. This is Harry’s booth. 

Louis rolls his eyes, because he should have fucking known that Harry would be displaying his photography. The art shows are always hosted and sponsored by the university. So, naturally, Harry would have to participate for course credit, no doubt. Louis looks at the photos just once more, taking in the darkly contrasted images. He squints, trying to take in all of the details. His eyes catch on one photo in particular. 

It’s Harry, definitely. He’s sitting on a black industrial stool, legs crossed with his hands there to support his pose, resting on his ankles. His whole outfit is black, but Louis notices his boots. They appear to be multicolored, silver and some other color Louis can’t really see because of the black and white setting. 

The contrasted lighting in the photo is beautiful, and if Louis knew shit about photography he would could probably find 10,000 better photos in the world. But, maybe it’s because the photo is Harry’s that Louis finds himself in awe at the beauty. 

The self portraits are lovely, and so are the other photos. Louis notices how Harry’s face is not in any of the images. He doesn't think too much into it when someone else joins him at the booth, and then two more younger looking college kids. They all look at the photos and point with their fingers, talking about the shots. 

“I hear he’s landing a job at Vogue or something.” Louis hears one girl say. 

“I wouldn’t blame them for hiring him. He could be a model himself. He’s _so_ fucking hot.” the other girl replies.

As much as Louis would like to deny the blood beginning to boil in his veins, he can’t. His eyes widen at how his insides are turning and flipping at the words the girls are exchanging. This simply can’t be. He can’t feel this way, especially not for Harry. Harry is kind and good, and everything Louis shouldn’t have. 

“I’d love to get in between those legs,” one of the girls says with a cackle. 

The other laughs. “If he even showed interest in anyone. I’ve had like, 4 classes with him and every time I try to flirt with him, it’s like I’m not even there.” 

“I wouldn’t even care if he acknowledged me, as long as he would use that mouth to-”

“Can’t you show some respect for the artist?! He’s not a piece of _meat_.” Louis finds himself blurting out. But, fuck. It’s too late. He can’t take his words or actions back, he can’t. It only takes him a matter of seconds to turn on the balls of his feet, ready to retreat from the girls and their shocked expressions. He’s going to leave. Yes, that’s what he’s decided…or at least, he decided on running away until he feels a strong grip spin him back around. 

When he looks at the person, he notices that it’s Harry’s roommate. He looks into his brown eyes, and this is the first time Louis is seeing the kid without headphones on. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“You’re Harry’s friend.” 

Louis is shocked that the kid even remembered him. “Um, I-I…” he tries to stutter out, unable to formulate words due to the shock of his small outburst. The girls have since left the area, off to another booth nearby. And then it hits him. _Liam_. “You’re Liam, right?” 

The boy nods, offering a small toothless smile. He pulls Louis closer to the actual table sitting a few feet away from the display. 

Louis looks down at the table, seeing a stack of Harry’s business cards and a huge mason jar full of aluminum pins. There are also picture books that feature Harry’s face and name on the front, all titled _Light._ Louis scans the table before looking up to Liam, who is now sitting on the metal fold chair behind the table. 

“Would you like to support the artist?” Liam asks, presenting the merchandise to Louis with an open palm. 

Louis is still at a loss for what to say next. He just stands there with his tongue in between his teeth and his fingers picking at the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Hello?” Liam asks again. 

In a moment of panic, Louis begins to pull out his wallet and notices his shitty collection of single bills, coins, and lint. He’s really got to work on saving money better. “Uh,” he starts pathetically. “What’s the cheapest thing?”

Liam leans forward. “Well, the pins and buttons are pretty cheap. How ‘bout one of them?”

Louis nods, handing Liam some money in exchange for a pin with Harry standing with a camera pulled up to his face. The pin itself is the size of a big coin. Louis stows it away in his pocket along with a business card that Liam handed to him. 

Liam offers him a smile. “Glad doing business with you.” 

Louis nods before turning away to leave the booth. 

Liam catches him again, this time with his voice. “Hey!” he calls and Louis turns to face him halfway. 

“You should make things right with my roommate, he’s been kind of sad.” 

Again, Louis gives him a half hearted smile before leaving the booth. He heads straight for the exit and when he’s out in the silence of his car, he pulls the pin and the business card out of his pocket. He looks at them, heart racing because now he kind of has a small piece of Harry to keep. 

With that, he turns his car on and heads home with the rainy night in front of him and Harry on his mind again.

 

* * *

 

It’s the 24th of December, and Louis is sitting on his couch with his grey joggers on and mismatched socks. His legs are crossed and he’s been picking at a hangnail on his finger for the past hour. It’s his birthday and he’s all alone. 

The day started out with a voicemail left by his mother that he still has yet to listen to. He got a few texts from his sisters and cousins and aunts, but nothing more than that. He maybe got 6-9 birthday posts on his Facebook wall and he has yet to look at his Instagram. The thing is, birthdays have never been enjoyable for him. Between the years of his life spent being someone he’s not and drunken party nights he can’t recall, getting older has never been something he’s fond of. 

His last birthday, his twenty-third birthday, was spent in his flat with Niall. The boy had tried to make him a cake, and it was a sad masterpiece even featuring his name spelled as “Luis.” Niall had blamed it on his being drunk while baking, but despite it all Louis loved it anyway. He loved that someone was thinking about him. 

He thinks back for a moment to his twenty-second birthday, before Zayn broke it off with him. Zayn was still in his life, and he can remember being at a party with blown eyes and a mind full of rainbow snowflakes. Zayn got him high on some drug and he didn’t think he was going to make it to see the next day. But the next day came, though the memories of what happened did not. 

In the present, Louis adjusts his position on the couch and he grabs his phone. He tries to take his mind off of the memories. He unlocks his phone, half hoping to see a text in there from a certain blonde Irish. But to no avail, he ends up chucking his phone to the end of the couch. He buries his face into a pillow and thinks about what it would be like to not exist for a moment, to not be anything. Reality tugs him back when he has to pull the pillow away from his face to breathe. 

He tosses the pillow to the side and grabs his cell once again. Once he unlocks it, he goes straight to the unheard voice message from his mother and presses play. 

_“Louis, it’s your mother. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. You are my son, my first born child and I do love you. I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on decisions made about your life, but that isn’t what’s important. I-”_

Louis closes the voicemail, he cuts it off because he can’t bring himself to listen to it anymore. He knows that she’s just working her way up to a rant about how his lifestyle isn’t okay, and how he can be redeemed for it. But hearing his mothers voice for the first time in so long kind of puts things into perspective for him. 

For a moment he considers the possibility of going back home. Now that Niall’s not speaking to him, there’s nothing left for him here in London outside of the doors of his dingy flat. He thinks about what it would be like to go home and stay for a while. He could just call his mother and say sorry for everything, and that she was right about it all. 

She said Zayn would break his heart and that it would never work out for him, that he couldn’t be happy living that way. He imagines being home to watch his younger sisters grow into young ladies, and having the comfort of a parent. Being back in his hometown sounds appealing for a second, and he thinks that he could just pack his life up and go. But then reality hits him again. Sure he could go home and do all those things, but if he did that he could never be his true self. 

He’s worked so hard, trying to overcome the inequality in his old home life. He might not value himself in other ways and he might not always treat himself the best, but he knows his worth when it comes to his identity. He was never happy living his life hiding, scared of what other people might think or say. He wasn’t always as confident about his identity as he is today. 

About an hour later, he’s moved to the floor and he’s got a half empty bottle of tequila and a sliced up lime. He’s halfway drunk, and there are already tears rolling down his cheeks. He should be happy to be alive, but he doesn’t see the point when there’s no one to share happiness with. It’s not that he constantly needs someone, but it would be nice. 

When a gentle knock comes from his front door, he hops up as quickly as his drunk ass can. He stumbles a little bit, stopping so he can try to plan out his course of action to get to the front door. He could take path number 1 that only has minimal chances of him tripping over shoes, or he could take path number 2 that involves him walking past a small table with an old vase that belonged to his nan. Without much thought at all, he makes the decision to go to the front through his first path. 

Luckily enough, he doesn’t fall and he makes it to the front door without breaking anything. He struggles for a moment to unlock the door and take the chain off the door. But he manages to do it somehow, and he’s met with green eyes and a really, really pretty lavender colored knit sweater that he loves. Harry’s standing there with a hopeful smile on his face. 

Louis doesn’t know if he even acknowledges Harry, but the next thing he knows is that they are both standing in front of his couch. 

“I just wanted to say thank you. Liam told me that you uh, s-stopped by my booth during the art night.” his voice is a little shaky, but his eyes are warm. 

Louis doesn’t really respond, but Harry takes the queue to keep on going. 

“And that I’m sorry for not talking to you in so long. I don’t really know what got into my head, but I’ve really missed hanging around with you. I’ve…I’ve missed _you_. That’s all.” 

He needs a fucking moment, because here Harry is telling Louis that he’s missed him and hanging around. Harry’s saying sorry and Louis should really feel something more inside other than admiration for the way Harry’s cheekbones and brow bones glow from the warm light coming from the kitchen. He shouldn’t be looking at the way that Harry’s neck dips low, and how the low cut of that fucking lavender sweater shows off his collar bones. 

Louis shouldn’t think about how he wants to touch and be touched. Before Louis can properly respond, Harry pulls a small brown bakery box from behind his back. Harry opens the top as if to showcase the contents, which are daintily decorated star shaped cookies, covered in white frosting and glittery sugar. They’re beautiful. 

“I love to make these, and I just thought I would bring you some.” he says, box still in his hands. He stands there, looking a little awkward. “Wanted to give you these as a peace offering. Maybe we could go back to being friends. I mean, i-if you even want that. I just, I don’t have a lot of friends here because I’m so busy with school. And-”

Before Harry can finish, Louis has him pressed against a nearby closet door. The box of cookies has fallen to the ground, some of the little stars still in the box and some broken on the wood floor. 

Harry’s eyes are wide and blown, his lips are open and his brows are tense. It’s almost like Louis can hear his pulse beating rapidly when he stutters out the words, “Louis, w-what are you doing? I- are you drunk? You um, you smell like alcohol?” 

Louis ignores Harry’s words, too caught up in the moment and the tequila coursing through his veins to give a damn anymore. He presses his body against Harry’s, and Harry whimpers from the pressure of the doorknob pressing into the small of his back. Louis senses this, so his arms snake around Harry’s thin frame and he grips Harry’s waist. 

Before Harry can mutter another syllable, Louis presses his lips to Harry’s. It’s all gone from there. He kisses Harry and doesn’t stop kissing him until he’s moved onto the other boy’s neck, where he attacks the skin in a stupor of lust and inebriation. 

Harry’s making these breathy little noises and Louis’ too gone to listen to the fear in his tone. He can feel Harry’s hands working against him, but he doesn’t care. He continues to kiss and lick and bite, and his hands snake under Harry’s sweater to grip and dig at Harry’s warm skin at the edge of his jeans. 

Harry’s breathing insanely hard, and when Louis pulls away he can see dark marks on the other boy’s neck that he just made. He kind of likes that. But when he goes to make his next move, he can see tears in Harry’s eyes and for a moment he loses track of all space and time. His hands fall limp to his sides, and he only just realizes what he’s done. 

“Harry, I-” he starts to say, stopping when Harry breaks away from his space. Harry runs straight to the front door and leaves with a slam. 

Louis is at a loss. His thoughts are all jumbled and he feels like he has to throw up. He sinks to the floor, on his knees. How could he be such a monster? Harry came to say he was sorry and that he wanted to be fucking _friends._ The boy brought star shaped cookies, and Louis just attacked him. 

“Oh, god…” he says to himself, looking down at his hands that are so red from the surge of blood coursing through his body. He looks at the shattered cookies littering the floor and the little sticky note on top of the box. He pulls it off with a sound and reads three words written with a sharpie pen, in Harry’s handwriting. **See you soon.**

He feels completely awful. Tears fall down his cheeks again and by the time he gets to the couch where his phone is, he’s sobbing. His body aches inside, and he can only think to call one person. 

“Hello?” 

Louis sniffles, body shaking and convulsing. “Niall please come over. I fucked up. I’m- I don’t know how to fix it. Please, just please come here I’m so sorry ‘bout everything I just need my best friend back. Please-”

“I’ll be right there, Louis.” Niall replies in a serious tone. His voice is calm, and Louis almost feels a little bit better but he can’t focus on anything other than the wrong he’s just done. 

“Don’t move or do anything, okay?” 

“Okay,” Louis whispers into the phone before hanging up. He lets himself sink into the couch, face down and pressed into something that smells like baked goods and lavender and winter time. He opens his hazy eyes and sees Harry’s flannel sitting there where he had put it so he could find a way to return it to the other boy. 

Pathetically, Louis pulls the material close to his face and chest. He inhales, noting how Harry’s scent has almost left the fabric. He cries into the flannel, clinging tight to it. He didn’t think his birthday could get much worse. 

When Niall arrives ten minutes later, it’s like nothing bad ever happened between them. Louis falls into Niall’s arms and cries it out. They talk about it, finally. They talk about all that has been going on, and Niall understands. And for now, that’s all Louis needs…is for someone to understand.

 

* * *

 

They don’t talk for the rest of December. 

Throughout the last few days of the month following _that_ night, Louis considered going downstairs to Harry’s. He contemplated what he could do to make it right. Niall had told him to just leave it alone for now, and Louis was convinced to listen to him.

When Niall had come over after Harry took off, Louis remembers how it felt coming clean about everything. It was hard for him at first, but it went a lot better than he expected. Where he expected Niall to get jealous or bitter, he was kind and understanding. 

So now he’s at a New Year’s Eve party somewhere in the middle of London, somewhere he’s never been before. The party is being thrown by some friend of Niall’s with a high amount of disposable income, and seemingly no care for who attends. Louis isn’t really to concerned with the _who_ behind the party, finding himself too busy standing in the middle of the dance floor with a red cup in his hand. He’s not too sure what he’s drinking, but he feels fine. Fine in the sense that he’s not drunk off his ass yet, and he still has five fingers on his left hand. 

Somewhere along the line he got glitter tossed on his body, so his collar bones are sparkly like the constellations peeking through the clear night sky. He has this sheer black shirt on and a pair of his favorite high waisted skinny jeans. He’s also wearing a pair of checkered Vans classic slip-ons that have holes in the top. He feels totally in his element, standing in the middle of the crowd. It’s different than being alone in his flat in dirty sweatpants. He feels alive for once, and he dances with anyone who comes near him. As a new song starts pounding in the room, sending vibrations through his feet, he isn’t really aware of what’s going on around him. 

“Oh, I love this song!” he shouts to the stranger dancing with him because it’s _Guns for Hands_ by twenty one pilots. She nods happily, probably too high or drunk to really care about him. He laughs at that, letting his head fall back, glitter sparkling on his skin. He raises his cup up toward the ceiling and shuts his eyes, letting himself get lost in the song and the party and anything that can distract him from thinking about a certain boy. 

When that fails, his mind starts to wander. From behind his shut eyes, he can see a light in the darkness. He sees Harry in colors that he’s not sure even exist. Harry’s in his mind, painted in the colors of the furthest galaxies and the deepest oceans. He smiles and laughs though, because this is his life. He’s always missing someone, always not enough to keep them there long enough to hold. He wants to. He wants to hold and be held, touch and be touched, but that’s never possible it seems. 

As the beat shifts into the rhythmic breakdown, the whole party slows for a moment. Everyone has their fists in the air except for Louis. He’s just standing there with his eyes shut, trying to figure out what he can do to make his life right. 

He’s shaken out of his thoughts when he feels a warm hand on his arms. He opens his eyes to see a drunken Niall with a wide smile plastered on his face. 

“Hey, babe,” Niall slurs, hooking his arm over Louis’ shoulders. 

Louis smiles, letting his empty drink cup drop to the floor. He wraps his arms around Niall’s waist. “Hi,” he whispers into Niall’s ear. 

Niall giggles at that. “Just wanted to come tell you that I’m getting ready to leave, yeah?” 

“Where are you going?” Louis asks with a pout. 

“Gonna go with some of the boys to the pub down the street. Not enough pints here for me.” Niall explains. “Wanna join?”

Louis shakes his head and shrugs. “You go, m’fine here.” 

Niall looks into Louis’ eyes. “You sure?” 

“Yeah,” Louis says quietly. “This is where I want to be right now.” 

Niall understands. He nods at Louis. “See you at home?”

“See you at home.” Louis says with a smile, soon after watching Niall slip away from him. He watches Niall make his way through the party, stopping where some other guys who went to uni with them are standing. He sees Ed, Andrew, Jacob, and a few others. Once Niall disappears completely, Louis turns his attention back to the party and the new song playing through the speakers. 

“Siri, what song is this?!” some blonde girl shouts. 

“The song is called: Omen (feat. Sam Smith) by Disclosure,” responds her white iPhone. 

Louis takes note of that. He likes this song so far. He nods his head to the beat of the song, unsure how to dance during the slow part. He mainly sees people gather in couples, grinding on each other and dancing in a more interactive manner. He doesn’t really have a stranger to dance with for this song, so he kind of just floats around in the crowd. It’s kind of lonely, but he sees other people standing alone. That makes him feel a little better about it. 

When he spins during what sounds like the chorus, he’s not ready for the face he sees across the room. The chorus is in full swing when the other person notices him. The first thing that stops Louis’ heart is those green eyes. 

“Harry!” he shouts like the boy isn’t already looking at him. 

Harry stands there like a deer caught dead in the headlights. The drink he was holding slips out of his hand and he turns to say something to the girl he was talking to, who appears to be Nancy from the bakery. Nancy seems to nod at whatever he said, and the next thing Louis knows is that Harry’s gone. 

“Wait! Harry!” he shouts, trying his best to maneuver the crowd. They push and pull at his body, and all he can do is shout things like “Get out of my way!” or “Move!” And when they don’t listen to him, when he ends up back in the middle of the dance floor, it all feels hopeless. Harry was gone so fast. Was Louis hallucinating? Why would Harry be at a party? He hardly seemed to be the type, with his lovely, shy awkwardness. 

Louis starts to spin, looking around the room for the other boy. He just wants to talk. He wants to tell Harry everything he’s been feeling for a change. All of a sudden, it’s not about getting over the thought of Harry. Now he just wants Harry back in his space, wants him back in his life. At this point he doesn’t even care what the degree of their relationship is…he just wants Harry. 

He scans the crowd once more before his body comes to a stop. He feels hands on his waist and his chest pressed against another chest. When he looks up, he doesn’t see green eyes. He sees brown eyes full of smoke and electricity. He sees his memories starting up again. He sees the first kiss and the first time he fell for someone. He sees smoky nights spent in his dorm room and a bearded smile. He sees Zayn standing right in front of him. Even though he sees Zayn, he _needs_ _Harry_. 

“I have- I have to find Harry, I-”

“Who the fuck’s Harry?” Zayn responds, sending Louis into shock because he hasn’t heard that voice in so long. 

“I…” Louis says, heart dropping immediately. He finds that he can’t do anything. 

Zayn leans down to whisper into Louis’ ear. “Didn’t you miss me, babe?” 

Chills course all throughout Louis’ body, and his skin breaks out in bumps. When Zayn’s tatted hand comes up to cup the left side of his face, he’s forced to look into Zayn’s eyes again. They’re as cold as ever, and in that moment Louis is hit with a rush of emotions and memories. It’s like they’re frozen in time. 

Louis sees every time he let Zayn have him in bed, every kiss, every fight, and when Zayn left him all at once. He has to blink a few times to remind himself that this is real and this is happening. But despite the number of times he blinks and wishes to wake up from this twisted dream, he sees Zayn there in front of him. 

As the bass from the song pounds, he feels Zayn’s body move against his. He can feel neurons firing left and right throughout his brain, and he can feel the way his skin heats up from where Zayn’s body is pressed to him. It’s a physiological response. It’s like his body is itching to be near Zayn. But at the same time, he can feel the disgust and hurt coursing through his veins each time Zayn’s hands grip harder. 

His hands are shaking when they come up to try and remove himself from Zayn. He tries his hardest to push Zayn off, to get away from him. 

“Why are you trying to get away from me?” Zayn asks calmly, like he doesn’t know what he does to Louis. 

“You left!” Louis shouts, finally out of Zayn’s grasp. His heart is racing wildly, and he never thought the day would come where he would be able to stand up to Zayn. It’s not like this is some amazing triumph, but it’s hard for him to not feel some type of way when Zayn looks shaken by something he did. “You left.” 

“Yeah, I did leave.” Zayn says, somewhat quieter now. The music is still pumping lowly, almost like it’s mute for the two of them. “But it’s not like I didn’t have a good reason.” 

Louis crosses his arms over his chest. “Why then? What’s your good reason?” 

Zayn doesn’t really say anything, just stands there with those silent eyes. 

“Goodbye, Zayn.” 

“Wait!” Zayn says before Louis can get too far. “You love me, don’t you?” 

The words echo through Louis’ mind. They echo loud and clear. “Why would you care?” he begins, taking a moment to let his mind wander off to green eyes and gentle hands. He sighs heavily, because it just now hit him like a ton of bricks. He’s figured it out. “I don’t love you like I did.” 

Before Zayn can respond he starts speaking again. “I’m in love with a boy who works in a bakery. He’s soft and lovely, and being with him is easy and right. He hides behind a camera most days, but when I do get to see him, he is so fucking beautiful. Even though I hurt him, I’m going to try and make it right, because you don’t have a hold on me anymore…I’m different now.” 

Zayn stares blankly at Louis. His brown eyes begin to water the slightest bit. For a moment, Louis wants to reach out and wipe his tears away. He wants to hold that boy from the coffee shop he met on that windy September day. But when he begins to reach out, he pulls away because this is not the same person. And more importantly, Louis isn’t the same person anymore. 

“He’s changed me for the better I’d like to think. Even though I’ve waited for you to come back since you left, I’ve moved on…” he says lowly, a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. “Now, I have to go find him. So, please just leave and never come back.” 

Without giving Zayn a chance to respond, Louis pushes past him and through the crowd that has since slowed down. The music is quieter now, and the lights seem to be dancing in slow motion. As he takes steps further from Zayn and closer to Harry, he feels the chains inside of him breaking and falling to the floor. With each step, the rusted pieces fall and turn into dust. He’s in love with Harry. He is so in love with Harry. 

As he turns a corner, he takes one look back at the party and notices that Zayn is nowhere to be seen. He cracks a small smile and shakes his head, knowing that he made the right decision. Now, he has to find his boy. 

The next thing he is aware of is a staircase. He looks up and sees a half open slide up window with the breeze blowing the white curtains gently. He stares at the night through it, noticing the way the window almost glows a deep purple color from the hues of the night, from the light of the moon. He takes a few steps, each creaking quietly as he leaves the loudness of the party and faces what is before him. By the time he reaches the window and has the golden handle in his hands it’s almost as if the party has died downstairs. 

Without looking back, he grips the handle tight and pushes the heavy frame up so the window is fully open now. When the cool night breeze hits his face, Louis finds that it’s hard to breathe. The roof is pretty windy, and Louis finds himself regretting his decision to leave his coat at home. 

He looks left and right before his eyes stumble upon Harry. The boy is sitting out on a dusty old red couch next to a table full of long plants and an ashtray. He’s got his ripped jean knees pulled up to his chest, and his chin is resting lightly on top of them. His pale face is glowing in the purple and blue light, and he looks like a painting. 

Louis notices the quiet hum of a record playing spinning softly, playing a sweet sounding tune. If the rooftop wasn’t so quiet, you probably wouldn’t be able to hear the song playing softly and the laughter coming from people leaving the party below them. With each step Louis takes, it’s like Harry doesn’t choose to see him. The boy just sits there, with his eyes closed and breathing shallow. 

When Louis finally takes a seat next to Harry on the red couch, the air feels distant and cold. Harry doesn’t move at all, the record player still spinning the song softly. If things were different and not so messed up, Louis would feel calm sitting next to Harry. But everything is awkward and tense, and Louis even thinks that Harry looks a little different since the last time he saw him. 

Even though it’s only been a few days, Harry looks harsher. There are dark purple-toned circles under his eyes, and he looks like he’s been crying. His body looks slimmer, almost like he hasn’t been baking for fun like he loves to do. It makes Louis’ heart sink inside and he wants to reach out and touch him. He wants to take Harry and push him back together like two pieces of broken glass or something like that. He hates thinking about Harry not being his usual happy self. 

Suddenly, before he can think another thought the words leave him. “I’ve missed you.” 

Harry shifts his eyes toward Louis, a confused expression on his face. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis starts, trying to think of a better way to fix this. But he thinks that maybe the truth is what they need. So he says it again. “I’ve missed you a lot, and I know that you might not want to ever see me again but, yeah.”

Harry’s eyes shift back to where the street is below. He doesn’t say anything. 

“I get it,” Louis stands up from the couch. “I can leave you alone then. Just know I’m sorry…” he says, starting to leave behind the best thing that ever happened to him. It’s like all he can hear in his head is the blood rushing around like an ocean or a hurricane. Every bad thought he’s ever had in his life comes rushing, attacking his heart and head in ways that he didn’t imagine were possible. 

“W-why did you kiss me?” comes Harry’s quiet, broken voice. “On that night…why did you do that?”

Louis turns around quickly, the wind rushing and racing. His hair is flying wildly in the breeze. He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know why I kissed you.” 

Harry nods, moving his head back to his knees. 

Louis sighs heavily, walking back over to the couch. He sits down next to Harry, this time a little closer. “Listen to me,” he starts, trying to get Harry’s attention better. “I was drunk on tequila and it was my birthday and I was lonely. I really fucking liked you, and you brought me cookies and I just lost it, okay?” 

“I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Harry responds, like that’s all he got from Louis’ mini rant. 

Louis leans back into the deep couch, looking up at the sky. He doesn’t know where to go from here. The whole situation is a mess. How does he tell Harry that he loves him? How does he tell Harry that he took him for granted because he was stuck on Zayn, but then things started to change all at once and it was overwhelming? That he couldn’t find it in himself to be normal and approach Harry with fucking flowers or a grand gesture? His thoughts break up when Harry starts speaking again. 

“I was fucking scared. You scared me.”

Louis’ eyes pop, partially because of Harry cursing but also because of the fact that he was scared? He doesn’t know what to make of anything anymore. 

“I told you that I haven’t been with anyone, and you told me things that made love sound like such a horrible thing, Louis.” he says softy, still not looking at Louis. “And then when I smelled the tequila and felt the way you pushed on me, it was just too much for me to deal with. Because how do you respond to the person that’s kissing your neck also being the same person who told you that love was _overrated_?” 

“At that point, I thought you were fucking with me. I thought that you were fucking with me because you knew that I haven’t had a boyfriend, or a first kiss even…just like them.” 

Louis’ eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “ _Them_?” 

Harry’s eyes are tearing again. He brings a pale thumb up to wipe a tear away. He laughs and shakes his head. “I was always a bit of an outcast, being gay and all. But aside of that, I was dorky and I wore glasses that were too big for my face. My hair was a mess and I didn’t dress well. People in high school made fun of me relentlessly. They would prank me and tease me.”

Louis sighs. “Harry…” 

“And there was this one party. I don’t even know why I was there. I could have stayed home and played with my cameras as usual, but I was there and they were playing spin the bottle or some shit like seven minutes in heaven, and I got dragged into it. I remember being stuffed in a closet and no one ever came in, as cliché as that sounds.” he says with a shaky tone. 

“It was dark and cold and I didn’t even come out until everyone passed out in the living room. It was _so_ embarrassing.” he finishes in a whisper. “I hadn’t had my first kiss, I had no real friends, and I just felt like _that_ boy again when I was in your place that night. I don’t know. It’s stupid, but I felt that way again and I’ve worked so hard to not be _him_ anymore.” 

Harry continues before Louis can say anything. “It takes a lot for me to fall for someone, and this whole time I’ve been falling hard for you so when you kissed me like that, it just hurt. I don’t know. It wasn’t what I wanted it to be.” 

“Listen,” Louis says and Harry looks at him. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know any of that about you at all. If I had known-”

“Then you probably wouldn’t be sitting here right?” Harry responds shamefully. “You probably wouldn’t have kissed me, drunk or not.”

Louis exhales a breath he didn’t realize was stuck inside of him. It all makes sense now. Every photo that Louis’ seen of Harry doesn’t include his face. Maybe Harry still thinks that he isn’t worth anything. This kind of breaks Louis’ heart in a way he can’t quite define. 

“I don’t care what you look like, Harry.” he says. “When I met you, I noticed your hands first. But right next to that, I saw your soul. As lame as that sounds, I felt yours touch mine if that’s even possible. You ran into me in the market and it’s like my whole world has been flipped upside down since.” 

Harry gives him a look, upper lip starting to shake. 

“I’ve been hurt too, Harry. Maybe not in the way that you have been, but I’ve been hurt too. You know that guy in there that I was talking to?”

Harry nods silently. 

“He’s the reason why I’m so messed up. He hurt me so badly, and since then I would have done anything to get him back into my life like he once was. Tonight was the first time I’ve seen him since he’s been gone.” Louis says, breathing heavy because he’s never talked about this with another person. 

“Then why are you here and not back with him at the party?” Harry asks like the answer isn’t already obvious. And maybe to a person like Harry, the answer can’t just be clear or simple. Harry with his shaking hands and too big heart couldn’t possibly expect to be chosen by someone like Louis. But that’s what makes Louis love him so much. 

Louis laughs incredulously, a small smile spreading over his face as he looks up to the moon. The song on the record player has stopped playing and it’s just spinning. He knows the answer to Harry’s question, he’s known it for quite some time. “Because I want to be with you,” he replies simply. 

Harry’s whole body seems to shake in response to the answer. 

Louis caves in finally. His hand reaches over to gently caress Harry’s hand. He runs his rough fingers over Harry’s smooth skin, his rings, and even his index fingernail that’s coated in a deep crimson color. 

“Can we try again?” Harry asks quietly, like he’s scared. 

“Try what again?” 

“Um.” Harry pauses. “Could you like, kiss me…again? Or.” 

Louis smiles. “Think I could manage that,” he replies, leaning in towards Harry. When their lips meet for the first time, Louis begins to see colors in his mind. He sees fields of lavender and the bluest galaxies. Harry’s lips are soft and tentative, impossibly smooth against his own. They’re plump and perfect, like slices of a peach. 

Harry kisses him back with this soft vigor, and Louis can’t quite tell what Harry’s feeling. Whatever it is, he can sense the desire to have more of Harry burning inside of himself. He feels it in his gut, in his thighs, even in his heart and hands. It’s a weird sequence of sensations, that he’s never felt with anyone before. 

When they pull apart, Harry’s breathing is a bit labored. He opens his eyes and looks at Louis, a thousand colors crashing and caving together like an ocean. 

“You’re beautiful, like the moon.” Louis says out of nowhere. 

Harry smiles at him before closing his eyes. The blue hued lights are still shining over his face and the wind is tossing his wavy hair gently. Louis stares at him in admiration, wondering how he found this boy. He wonders why he didn’t know Harry from the start. So many things in his life would be different if he had known Harry from the start. But maybe he needed all of the bad things to happen first so he could save the best for last.  

Before meeting Harry it was hard to imagine himself getting past the dark times. Now, Louis can see a light at the end. Sitting on the roof…just him, Harry, and the moon, he feels at ease. The scars on his heart aren’t completely gone, but he can feel each one fade every time he closes his eyes and opens them. Harry’s in his sight and in his heart. 

He reaches over and takes Harry’s hand. 

Harry grips back gently. He’s looking down at their hands with a small smile on his face. He tries to hide behind his hair, but Louis pushes it behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. 

In response, the younger boy turns into an image of flushed cheeks and a deep dimple to match. He’s the softest, loveliest thing Louis has ever encountered. Probably the closest to heaven that he’ll ever get. But he won’t complain, because sitting in the silence of the night with the one he loves most is just enough for him. 

Later in the night, after the party has died, Harry and Louis go back to where they live. They say goodnight at the bottom of the stairs, and leave it all to the universe with a quick kiss beneath the moon and the stars. The kiss is an unspoken promise for whatever tomorrow and the next day may hold. 

Their future is full of Friday nights spent in Louis’ room with a bottle of cheap wine and fresh baked things, while Saturday mornings are spent in gardens with the rare sun shining down as they walk together holding hands. There are times where Louis breaks down and Harry has to give him some space…but it’s all okay when Louis waddles into Harry’s an hour later and falls into his arms. Harry always knows that Louis still loves him, even if things are not always perfect. Louis, just as he is, is enough for Harry. 

In an attempt to not spoil the ending, things can only be left at this: they’re the happiest together and they’ve only just gotten started.  

 


End file.
